Hamartia
by Tune4Toons
Summary: She's stubborn and they both know it. His mistake was letting her waste the energy to try.
1. Hamartia

_pairing: hisalisa—why are there only two of us on ao3_

_a/n: i got rid of my complicated ideas and went with something simpler (i gave up trying to expand this—but should i? idk). damn i should finish that ssb fic i keep putting off._

_based on a headcanon/idea/prediction where shibazaki eventually teams up with the terrorist duo to find evidence to expose the truth behind rising peace academy. (they'd hack into the system for records, but nine doesn't want to risk it with five on the other side.)_

_walt, fugl, and von are great songs to listen to on repeat._

_(written before episode 6 aired)_

* * *

The smoke clears when Twelve wakes up to cracked concrete and fallen pillars.

His back's against a wall, but his vision's still blurry—must've banged his head because it's pounding right now. But they did it. They got Rising Peace Academy's records and now they just gotta run back to the van where Nine and that detective Shibazaki were waiting.

Twelve tries to stand, but hisses; his legs throb and his body aches all over, so he stays sitting on dusty cement. His vision clears enough for him to find his pants scorched, his legs scratched, his arms bruised all over.

The radio in his ear buzzes. _"Twelve, you there?"_

And there's Nine now. He tries to laugh, but coughs instead. "I'm okay, I think."

_"What happened? Shibazaki ran out the van, so stay where you are."_

Not that he can move anywhere—unless if Lisa can help him up. Doesn't take long to find her though. A foot away to his right, he spots Lisa face down on the floor. She has an old cellphone in her right hand and Twelve's hand in her left. He smiles. He'd been holding onto her when they ran from their pursuers and he must've dropped the trigger along the way. Smart girl, setting off the bombs herself.

"Lisa," words clog up his throat as he struggles to choke them out, "pressed the trigger a little too early though." Poor girl can't get anything right, but at least she stopped their pursuers from the other side of the debris. They probably have worse injuries than Lisa and him if they were any closer to the blast.

Not that they're in any better shape. There's shrapnel lodged in her back and his waist, burns on their arms, blood on her side.

_"Twelve? Hey! Answer me, damn it!"_

Oh right, Nine can't hear him if he doesn't hold the speaker button. He'd move his arms, but he's just so tired right now and his skin burns enough as it is.

Lisa soon groans and Twelve snaps up to attention.

Her voice strains, "Did it work?"

"Yeah," Twelve croaks. "Stopped those people from chasing us. Run faster next time though."

She mumbles, "Sorry."

"It's okay."

He shouldn't have let her come. He knew her reflexes weren't fast enough to outrun pursuers. Yet he still didn't send her back to the van when she followed him into a building he was supposed to infiltrate himself.

But he admits without her help, he wouldn't have been able to carry out as much of the records on his own. She still has her backpack sprawled on the side, though Twelve's bag flew off a few feet away.

"I messed up again, didn't I?" Lisa says.

And he chuckles this time even though he chokes on his own barely breath. "On the bright side, we don't look bad as your cooking."

She'd be laughing, he bets, if her stomach wasn't bleeding out. Or is it his blood on the floor? Hard to tell.

Instead, her voice cracks. "But I—"

"Lisa." _Please shut up_. "It's okay."

"Is it?"

A tear streams across a line of dirt down her cheek, and it's a shame he can't move or else he'd wipe it off for her.

"I can't feel my legs."

"Me neither." Twelve smiles. "Nine said Shibazaki's coming though. He'll have to carry us. Poor old man. You're heavy enough as it is."

"So mean," she murmurs, voice so faint, Twelve almost didn't catch it.

"It's true. Needed Nine to help me carry you to the couch when you had that fever before."

Twelve glances at her face once more and hears her force out a hoarse giggle. He smirks. There it is. _Just keep going_, he tells himself. Keep them both awake till Shibazaki gets here.

A few seconds of silence pass before Lisa speaks again. "Kokonoe is Nine?"

_Ah_, he forgot. He sighs. "Yup."

"And you're Twelve."

He chuckles. "You heard?"

"Overheard Kokonoe say it before. Such," she says between forced breaths, "weird names."

Twelve finds his head tipping, vision sinking, but tries to stay upright.

She waits a few moments, and then speaks once more. "Should I call you that too?"

He shrugs. "If you want."

"Okay." A pause. "Twelve," she strains out, nowhere near as smooth or natural as he hoped for it to be.

"You're saying it wrong." Twelve chuckles. "Try again."

She sighs. "Twelve."

"Again."

"Twelve." And she continues repeating as if printing his image in her brain. His name. His identity.

"It's just a number," he says, unable to hide his laugh despite how it grinds his chest. "How come you keep getting it wrong?"

But she's stubborn and they both know it.

Then next try comes out perfectly.

"Twelve."

And he smiles.

She must've noticed it too because she continues on. "Twelve." She grins, and his smile grows until they both start laughing even though his throat burns to do so. "Twelve." Like he's waited too long to finally hear it. To have this moment. To wonder why he hesitated to mention his name sooner.

But soon Twelve notices her eyes closing and he grips her hand tighter.

"Stay up, come on now. Don't stop."

Yet she doesn't answer and he sighs. Can't believe she decided to sleep first, but he can't blame her. He's tired too. But that Shibazaki guy will need them awake.

And yet he closes his eyes, breathing in the dust and silence.

A few minutes pass when he hears footsteps echoing at the end of the hall and he shakes Lisa's hand again. "Look alive, Lisa." But his voice comes out so hoarse he can't even hear himself speak. "He's here. He's here."

Someone's heat radiates like a shadow looking over him when he feels two hands grab his shoulders and shake his body. "Kid, wake up. Oi!"

His eyes drift open and meets Shibazaki's gaze through his blurred vision, but he's too tired to answer. Instead, Twelve lifts the hand holding onto Lisa a few centimetres off the ground—high enough for the detective to shift his sights to her.

"She fell asleep," Twelve finally says. Shibazaki hold two fingers to Lisa's neck. "Careful," Twelve adds, but coughs. Lisa's injuries probably burn as much as his own, though she's lucky she's sleeping it off—such a bad girl. He shakes her hand again. Wake up, Lisa. Come on.

Shibazaki soon flips Lisa onto her back—Twelve forced to let go of her—pressing an ear to her chest. A minute passes when he faces Twelve with wide eyes. "Kid…"

"What…?"

He tries to focus in on Shibazaki's answer, but his head goes dizzy.

"She's— wait, are you—?"

And Twelve's body tips to the side. landing in the puddle beside Lisa.

Shibazaki's shouts sound all garbled now. He shakes Twelve's body, but he lays still, eyes glazed open.

Twelve wants to laugh, but can't. Lisa must've rubbed off on him.

_Ah geez. _

His eyes close.

…

And he hopes to wake to Lisa saying his name again.

…

…

…

…

* * *

_a/n: am i kicked out of the fandom yet haha?_


	2. Aftermath

_a/n: this was actually an idea i initially intended to put in Hamartia before i had cut it down to what it is. whoever you are, anon, don't apologise for wanting that because…_

* * *

Twelve wakes up staring at a light too white to be real.

He muses at the thought that maybe he's dead, but then Nine will get mad and who'd want a mad Nine left on his own? Twelve tries to sit up only to feel a sharp stab to his side. He hisses, falling back down on a mattress stiffer than the couch at home.

The smell of anaesthetics bang in his nose and he now knows exactly where he is. Faint voices trickle in from his left, somewhere behind the curtains surrounding him. Little specks of blue and green that make him smile because the white lights and ceiling remind him too much of the institute. A few seconds of listening in and he finally notices small flashes of red beeping beside him—a heart monitor. His own breath tickles his face in warmth, and it takes a minute to realise he also has an oxygen mask on.

Were his injuries that bad for Nine to risk taking him to a hospital? Surely Nine has some plan to get them out of here. Given the blood bag hanging beside him and the needle stuck in his arm, it may take a few days minimum. But he knows it won't take long for the FBI to locate them assuming he's in the nearest facility to where the bomb exploded—

"Lisa." Comes out as a weak mumble. Maybe he should apologise for not warning her about the danger ahead of time; who knows how bad the poor girl's feeling. But then again, she's leapt out of buildings and airplanes and they both suffered worse scratches than this. Twelve chuckles because what if she'll want to buy a lot of bandages once they get out of here? He prays her first aid skills aren't as bad as her cooking and adds that to the list of things he should teach her.

He hears a door open followed by a nurse's orange voice. Specks of blue return to the air and his muscles relax when he sees Nine open the curtains around his bed.

"How you feeling?"

Twelve coughs— "You're not mad at me, right?" —but manages to laugh easier than before.

Nine scoffs. "You just had a surgery done. I'll let it go for now."

"That bad, huh…?"

But the smile stays. Some water would be nice right about now though; feels like he swallowed a sponge still stuck in his throat.

"Hey Nine?" Twelve's voice croaks. "Where's Lisa?"

Nine flinches, and Twelve watches his voice darken to a murky blue. "Get some rest, Twelve," he says in a monotone. "You can see her later. We're heading out as soon as you can stand."

Nine turns around ready to walk away, but Twelve grabs his shirt. "Wait…" His breath hitches. "At least tell me which room she's in."

But the room stays white, almost complete silence. No hints of Nine's blue voice, no voices from the door—not even the red beeps for the heart monitor are enough to drown out the white.

Nine doesn't even spare a look at him for the next few minutes. Twelve expects as much, but usually he'd be able to walk over and face him from the other side.

"Shibazaki," Nine pauses for a breath, "told me what happened, but I want to hear it from you, Twelve."

If there's one thing he knows best, it's how well Nine's sharp tone constricts around your throat, and Twelve braces for impact.

"What happened?"

He sighs. "The escape bomb blew up too early."

"Lisa."

Twelve starts laughing—nods, but still laughs even though he knows how much Nine hates hearing it. He didn't even bother making it sound like a question. So unfair, so unfair.

This time, Nine turns around to face Twelve, adding that signature glare behind his glasses. "You were _lucky_," he says, silencing him, making sure the last word stabs deeper into his skin than the shrapnel that dug at his side earlier—the doctors probably have a nice collection of bomb parts by now from both Twelve and Lisa combined. "Had you not been in front of Lisa—"

"Where is she, Nine?"

Nine stops. The bright burst of blue in his voice wavers and Twelve spots Nine's clenched fist at his side.

Nine takes in another breath. "You were lucky."

Twelve loosens his grip on Nine's shirt, feeling his heart speed, his palms sweat, his lips tremble. _What happened after I passed out?_ His mouth opens, but his throat clogs up.

_Geez, Lisa._ To think he's picked up her habits already. _Maybe I do spend too much time around you._

But Nine knows him well enough to read his thoughts—or so Twelve likes to think. "As soon as we got you both here, the doctors had to operate on you immediately. An _organ_ transplant, Twelve. How careless can you be?

"You were lucky…" Nine says again, only this time his blue voice shone too dimly, too quietly, "…the two of you were compatible."

"Compatible? What are you taking about—"

But then Nine points to his stomach, and Twelve swallows as he stares down at his body. He pulls his hospital gown up past his knees, his thighs, his waist, up to his stomach and—

His eyes widen. "What is that?" His voice cracks. His head gets hit with a stronger smell of anaesthetics and he scrutinises the stitches lining across his skin and Nine, this is no time for payback and— "Nine, where's Lisa?"

A pause. "You were lucky," he says again.

_Stop._

"You hadn't woken up for seven days, Twelve."

_Stop._

"She was the only donor available in such short notice—"

"Stop." The heart monitor beeps faster, flashes red faster, and all he wants is for it to shut up. "Just stop."

His fingers ball into fists so tight, his nails dig into his palms, and the stitches on his side only stab worse than the bomb fragments.

Nine complies and stays silent and something streams down both sides of Twelve's face, but his hands are too numb to wipe them off or to even move.

Twelve clenches his eyes shut.

"Where is she, Nine?"

Nine looks away.

"Don't lie to me."

"Twelve—"

"Please." Lisa was never supposed to save him.

Not like this.

…

"I'm sorry."

Not like this.

…

…

…

…

* * *

_a/n: …i'm kinda as sadistic as you. here it is, just for you, ya brilliant psychic motherfucker (pardon my french)._

_(also canon kinda botched my guess of when lisa would learn nine and twelve's names, surprise surprise. can i leave it as is anyway?)_

_*braces for gunfire and pitchforks*_

_(i'm sorry; this is how I cope with 3+ animes bombarding me with feels in the same week…!)_


End file.
